an attempt at a free dinner

Slogging on from ten till two,
With homework keeping me ever blue,
On a whim I happened to check my e-mail
And spied what could be my chance for repeal
T’was there a message, wild and sweet,
Calling single girls for a chance to meet
Two kind gentlemen perchance for dinner
If lines of verse would prove a winner.

Filled with hope of an amorous kind,
I rushed to my pen, new lines there to find,
Slaving and work and struggling all day
All was hard work till my poem was okay.
Rejoicing in spite of my long labored dues,
I knew with my poem, who else could they choose?
Running and jumping and skipping with glee
My world looked much brighter with hope of the spree.

Taking my lines to my proofreading friend,
I wanted to make sure how my story would end.
Excitedly sharing my time of preparing,
Grimacing she said she had news was worth sharing.
Not writing a poem or even attempting a line,
She declared she been asked by the gentlemen to dine.
Without enough submissions two day before due
The gentlemen decided they knew what to do.

Asking girls out should be done with care
Especially if mentioning free dinner somewhere.
Alas, my story is too sad to be told:
I was all prepared but now I’ll grow old
Holding my banished, forgotten rhyme
Unwanted or seen during my Oxford time.
Baby, don’t hurt me by leaving me alone
Find me a date because I don't have a phone.